Destiny Fulfilled
by Bianca tabbycat
Summary: Everyone thought the line of Slytherin died with Voldemort. However, 23 years later, a new leader of the Dark claimed she was the heir of Slytherin. Now, this war was not for Harry to fight; it was for the Next Generation - Albus, Rose and Scorpius.
1. The First Warning

**The Last Heir of Slytherin**

_Summary: Everyone thought the line of Slytherin died with Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. However, twenty-two years later, a new leader of the Dark claimed she is the last heir of Slytherin. Now, this battle was not for Harry to fight; it was for his children._

It was unusually bright and sunny for that time of the year, giving the illusion that it was July rather than late October. The sun shone proudly in the pale blue sky, giving out beams of blinding white sunlight and waves of scorching heat. People shielded their eyes and fanned themselves frantically in a vain attempt to avoid the sun. The sun, however, paid them no heed, and continued its daily job. The branches of the trees waved gently in the occasional breeze which everyone welcomed. It was not a day you would associate with fear, terror, pain and death. However, that is soon to change.

There was no warning; they could not have escaped. One moment, shoppers were milling around, inspecting the goods on display in the store windows; the children were enjoying their ice cream cones, chattering happily as they did so and licking the stains that ran down their arms, anxious not to waste a single drop. The next minute, the sky noticeably darkened, and around a hundred figures dressed in grey combat clothes appeared out of nowhere. They were each holding what seemed like thin wooden sticks in a fighting stance.

Then all hell broke loose as people fought and struggled to get further away from the strange intruders. Everyone knew enough to know that the figures did not fear death unless it was their own; they wanted their lives. One of the figures, which appeared to be the leader, was the only one in black and with a cloak. She seemed to be in her twenties, and she was tall for her age. Her hair was as dark as the night, and they fell to her shoulders in an ebony sheet. Her eyes were a clear blue, but there was no warmth in them at that moment, making them seem all the more like ice. Her skin was pale but not sickeningly so, as though she had not seen the sun for a long time. She stood at the front of the group, head held high as they waited for her signal to attack.

"We are ready, My Lady, to attack these… _filth_," one of them murmured respectfully while bowing her head, although she spat the last word as if it hurt her to do. Her hair was caramel-colored, and her eyes were the color of chocolate. Her lips curled upwards eagerly with the prospect of the coming bloodbath.

A nod came from the leader, and she replied. "Then attack, Jemina, as soon as you see fit." Jemina's smile widened, and she raised her wand and fired off a jet of light into the air. An image formed, dark against the sky, but the attackers gave the people no time to inspect it closely before they charged as one. Beams of light erupted from the attackers' wands and they hit the people accurately. Muggles were dropping dead left and right, some were tortured viciously in the worst way possible, and some lucky few were spared.

The female leader had been hovering in midair while this had been going on. She surveyed the scene, drinking it all in with hungry eyes – the screams, which were like music to her ears; the blood, symbolizing pain, which appealed so much to her as she watched others suffer because of _her_; and last and greatest of all, death. She craved the feeling she had when she have the ability to allow a person to live or die, and she always felt satisfaction when the familiar green light rushed towards a person, seeing it strike him and crumple like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Shaking her head slightly, she aimed her wand at a Muggle rushing for freedom at the edge of the wards her followers set up.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" The words rolled smoothly off her tongue, and the Muggle fell to the ground, dead. _You should thank me_, she thought as her gaze searched for her most loyal follower, Jemina. _You would have suffered a much worse fate if you go crashing into the wards. _She smiled grimly as she spotted a body torn apart by the wards.

The bloodbath ended precisely seven and a half minutes later as the Aurors would arrive ten minutes after the attack had started. The group gathered quickly, Vanishing the fallen fighters' bodies and collecting dropped wands, leaving no trace of themselves. Before long, there were five Muggles lined up in a row at the feet of the female leader.

"My Lady," Jemina bowed as she addressed her. "My Lady, whom shall survive to tell the tale?" The leader pointed at a middle-aged woman and a teenage boy. "They shall live. Tie them up and dispose of the others." Three more bodies soon joined the pile, leaving the pair of Muggles wide-eyed with fear.

"Come," the female leader said, facing her followers once more with a triumph smirk on her delicate features. "We have much _celebrating_ to do with our fellow… _associates_." The attackers laughed at her choice of words, knowing she meant the rest of her followers. After all, they themselves were only a small portion of the supporters of the Dark. With a crack, they Disapparated one by one.

Jemina and the leader were the last ones to leave. They took a long look at the scene, with pride and what seemed like sadness gleaming in their eyes. "It has been a long time since we first planned for this, is it not, dear friend?" The leader sighed. "Thirteen years, Calypso," Jemina nodded in agreement. "Thirteen long years."

With a last look at their handiwork after years of planning, dreaming and speculation, they linked hands and turned on the spot, just in the nick of time before the arrival of the Aurors.

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><p><em>To be honest, this started off as a rather silly humor one-shot I was going to write. However, after reading what I had written for the first scene, inspiration hit me and this story was born. My thanks to <strong>Zoe tabbycat<strong>, who gave me the idea for the one-shot, leading me to this. Now, I would like to ask you all: Do you want to read the rather silly humor one-shot? Vote now by clicking on the pretty button below... Oh, and add your comments on this first chapter as well in the meantime!_

_Bianca tabbycat_


	2. The Second Warning

When Maria Cooper was a child, what she remembered most vividly about her remote home, Kielder, was the enormous mansion constructed on the steep hill looking over the gleaming blue lake. It was rumored to be occupied by all kinds of horrors: vampires, werewolves and gigantic spiders. When she was young, Maria had a great sense of curiosity, and she once wanted to be an explorer, trekking across the planet and discovering exotic places no man had ever seen before. Once Maria's aunt knew of her wish to explore the house, she was forbidden to go near the mansion, lest she "got possessed by the ghosts".

However, thirteen years ago, when Maria was seventeen, the house that had always attracted her attention disappeared overnight. No one could explain the strange phenomenon, and those who had been brave enough to investigate always came hurrying towards the village at top speed, saying they had made a very important appointment or left the oven on. Gradually, the villagers forgot about the incident, and most of those who remembered had even said good riddance, glad to be rid of the spooky house and the creatures said to be residing within.

Now, only Maria held any interest in the mansion, and tonight, which she had long awaited, she was going to explore it. She was almost one hundred percent positive it was a Muggle-Repelling Ward surrounding the grounds of the house. And after all, she wasn't exactly what you called a Muggle. Hoisting her shoulder bag over her head, she gave her dozing husband a loving look and a soft kiss, and Maria left her cottage for the last time.

She quickly made her way to the edge of the village, and started her climb towards the location of where she believed the mansion to be. About ten minutes later, Maria had reached the site, panting heavily and leaning on her hiking stick. Heavens, she was more out of shape than she thought. In the old days she could hike for hours before getting tired. Shaking her head slightly, she made her way through the long, waist-length grass as a blind person might, poking her stick in front of her as she searched for the ward. She was rewarded for her efforts soon, as the stick hit what seemed to be mere air. Gathering her wits, she stepped forward, towards the unknown.

It was like stepping through an icy sheet of water. Once on the other side, Maria's eyes widened, and she was unable to stiff a gasp. The mansion was a far cry compared to her memory years ago. The grass was neatly trimmed, and there were occasional flowers among the sea of green. The house itself, however, was even more magnificent. It was built of grey slabs of stone, each engraved with elaborate designs of the ancient magical legends and myths. The grand double doors were made from ebony, with polished silver handles in the shape of serpents. A large majority of the windows were lit up; not with the harsh white glare of electric lights, but with the warm comforting glow of the fires. Once in a while, the glow would flash green, and Maria knew what they were from the visits to her parents – the Floo. The house was obviously some sort of meeting place.

Maria barely had another moment to inspect the scene, however; for in that very moment, sirens rang out, filling the previously calm and peaceful night air with their banshee-like wails. She inwardly swore, a very un-Maria thing to do. How could she be so _stupid_? She, the usually sensible woman, should have realized that a house like this would have alarms as they had something to hide – something they didn't want ordinary people to find out. Now, she would pay for her carelessness – perhaps with her life.

Swarms of guards dressed in sweeping grey cloaks seemed to melt straight out of the shadows among the trees, prepared for action and wands in their hands. They did not say a single word in the whole process of tying her up; and Maria herself soon fell silent when she found a wand held threateningly in front of her face. One of the Shadows, for that was what Maria named them, took her arm roughly and shoved her towards the doors, with his wand aimed at her back, lest she made a bid for freedom.

Maria walked through so many hallways she lost count, for each of them were decorated with ancient relics which seemed identical. After what seemed like hours later, the procession stopped in front of a pair of doors even grander than that outside. One of them pressed his palm on the door, and it swung open under his touch. Maria was pushed in after a brief struggle.

The room was long and dimly lit, and the walls were a navy blue, so dark that it appeared to be black. The thick cream carpet muffled their footsteps, and the table was of cherry wood, as was the chairs, which were occupied by people of all nationalities. There was an armchair, however, at the head of the table, and Maria assumed it belonged to the head of this mysterious operation. A fairly young woman sat regally in it, dressed in robes of the deepest black. Her hair, which flowed down her shoulders, blended in with the robes so well, so Maria couldn't tell where her hair ended and the robes began. Her features were delicate, but most stunning of all were her icy blue eyes.

She gave Maria a bored glaze. "Kill her." Her voice echoed around the eerily silent room. And with a flash of green light, Maria Cooper, Squib and fourth daughter of the Prewetts, fell to the floor.

Without a look at the corpse on the floor, all the people in the room – which added up to around ten to twenty– disappeared with a loud crack.

_*** Heir of Slytherin***_

"Ha!" A triumph explosion of laughter came from Robert, who was slapping his thigh while shaking his head, trying to bring his guffaws under control. "Merlin, I won!" He gave a slight hiccup, brought on by the loud laughing. "Oh, the wonders of this world – me, Robert, beating you, the great strategist Michael in chess! Man, that is practically impossible! Who knows what could happen next!"

"Keep it down, Robert," Alex hissed from behind his copy of _The Magical Gazette_. "We're still supposed to be on guard, and it simply wouldn't do for the Minister to come out and scold us himself. And anyway, as for what will happen next, our photos will get into the paper; and on the front page, mind you." Sarcasm dripped heavily from his voice, and he ignored Michael, who was still gapping disbelievingly at the chessboard. Abruptly, an unexpected voice came from the doorway.

"Who knows, boys, that just might happen," a decidedly feminine voice drawled. Three heads turned at once to observe the new arrival. Carmel curls hung past her shoulders, and bright brown eyes were eying them calculatingly, as if judging their ability. She wore dark grey robes, short enough so as not to get in her way, and the guards knew they were definitely not Ministry work clothes. Michael's hand crept towards the alarm button. The woman's brown eyes narrowed. "Oh no you don't!" After a hasty Silencing Charm in the direction of the Minister's office, she pointed her wand at Michael. "_Avada Kedavra!" _

It was an easy battle after that. Robert, it appeared, had left his wand somewhere else, and he had been hit while searching for his wand on the carpet. Alex was the only one who presented a challenge, as he was once an Auror, who followed the legendary Mad-Eye's favorite phrase – constant vigilance. He had taken down two of the Shadows before he, too, dropped to the floor with a thud. The Silencing Charm was then removed, and Calypso stepped into the office.

_***Heir of Slytherin***_

Kingsley Shacklebolt was still at his desk, surrounded in a yellow pool of light with quill and parchment laid out in front of him. He appeared to be taking notes rather hurriedly, and there were splashes of ink on his fingers from the speed of writing.

"Minster Shacklebolt." Calypso's voice was cold and unfeeling, and at the first syllable he had jumped up with his wand instantly in his hand. He peered around the office several times before his eyes adjusted to the dimness. "Who are you?" Kingsley's tone was sharp, and Calypso chuckled without humor.

"My, Minister, don't you panic so?" Kingsley's wand flew out of his hand and landed with a clatter in the corner of the room. "I like people like you – they get straight to the point, no hesitating at all. Now, I will do you the same favor. As for who I am – you do not need to know my name, but I am the leader of the Dark. I trust you know of the attacks on the Muggles?"

Kingsley nodded briefly, his dark eyes fixed on her face. "Good. The massacre at Bloomsbury Square on Halloween?" Another nod. "Very well. That serves as the first warning. First warning of what, you may ask? I have your answer – the rise of the Dark. We shall have the victory, however long it shall take. And now, guess… What is to be the second warning to the completely oblivious families out there?" A flash of understanding came over Kingsley's face.

"My death." His voice was calm, as if he did not fear death. "Correct. Perhaps I should award points to Gryffindor? The house of bravery, daring, and nerve, they say, and yet some of them fight against enemies, scared that they would suffer defeat or leave the land of the living. Although I trust you are not that kind of person?"

"You are partly wrong. They are not afraid to lose; they fight only because of their belief in the cause. I, however, am one of the few that laugh in the face of death, for it must happen, sooner or later. Dumbledore once said 'death was but the next great adventure.' After all, I am no longer young, and I trust Mr. Weasley would do a fine job of being the Minister when he loses that pompous attitude of his, as would Miss. Granger."

"You are not afraid to die?" Calypso looked at him curiously, as one might examine an interesting specimen. "You are a strange man, Kingsley Shacklebolt." And with that, Kingsley fell to the floor, and Calypso placed something on his desk before vanishing.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not the first to die in this upcoming war, and he wouldn't be the last.

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><p><em>Heaven's sake! I am OBSESSED with this new story of mine - at the moment, anyway. My thanks to <strong>CharlieBoox<strong>, who gave me my first and only review. *sighs disappointedly* Oh, well. Anyway, I know there's a lot of dialogue in this chapter; but, hey, it's necessary! Please, please, please review - it really makes my day to know someone out there likes my writing/ideas!_

_Bianca tabbycat_


	3. The Prophecy

The Platinum Meeting Room located on the tenth level of the Ministry of Magic was only ever used in important, urgent and dangerous times, such as when Voldemort and Grindelwald were alive. It was named that under the orders of a rather batty old Minister who was convinced that the long forgotten art of alchemy existed, and spent his whole fortune on the art.

Now, however, the room was not used for displaying various articles of gold. Crowds of reporters jostled for space outside the doors with their cameramen at their sides and Quick Quotes Quill poised on the parchment. However, only journalists who were trusted to report the truth were allowed inside, along with the various Heads of Departments and their secretaries who fidgeted and swapped juicy bits of gossip on the headlines of that day's _Daily Prophet_.

"Silence, everyone! I demand silence _at once_!" Harry Potter was at the head of the table, struggling to be heard above the din, slamming his hand on the table for emphasis. Practically no one took any notice of him, however, preferring to speculate on the murder of the Minister himself. Hermione, seated at his right side, soon took pity on him and fired off a harmless firework from her wand, causing everyone to quiet down.

"Thank you," Harry said icily, shooting a grateful glance at his best friend. "Today we gather here to discuss the events that had been happening over the past few months. During October, there had been a few deaths here and there, both Muggle and Muggle-born. At that time, none of us paid any great attention and assumed it was just some pure-blood who still had prejudices against them, although we did tighten the Aurors' security. On the last day of October, Halloween, there was a massacre of Muggles in Bloomsbury Square around noon. Our Aurors arrived in precisely ten minutes after our alarms got set off, but there was no one when we got there. Hundreds of Muggles died, and there was just one survivor – a woman. She lived long enough to tell us what happened before she died. We have proof that the other side had put a charm on her, killing her when she finished her duty. This was when we suspected there was now a larger group of people who support the Dark with their own leader.

"Last night, as we all know, the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, died after the guards outside his office was killed protecting him. We believe a Silencing Charm was placed on the doorway when the fight started, thus explaining his ignorance of the struggle. Not much was known about his death. On his desk, we found some evidence."

Here Harry gave his secretary a nod, and she hastened to set up a magical projector and a screen. An image flickered and came into focus. "This was what we found." It was a piece of square black card. There was a delicately etched silver design upon it – a young woman in her twenties, with high cheekbones and icy blue eyes. However, instead of hair, she had snakes, which fanned out in all directions, forming a silvery halo around her face. Her mouth was open, as if laughing cruelly. Everyone shuddered at the sight, and Hermione spoke up.

"This card provided us with some clue about the leader of the Dark, which may or may not be true. It is very possible that the leader is female herself, hence the symbol. She may also be the heir of Salazar Slytherin, for why else would she include the snakes? She or her followers are also powerful, due to the traces of magic we found in Kingsley's office. We are certain that this leader will be a serious threat to our society, so now we call you all here, to vote on what we should do. Is there anyone who has something to suggest?"

A hand rose from shadowy corner, and someone stood up. "Do you know you sound very much like Professor McGonagall?" The voice of one Luna Lovegood spoke up, ignoring Hermione's surprised expression. "Well, Ms. Lovegood, what do you have to say?" Luna smiled politely at the speaker before she raised her wand and shut the doors, efficiently silencing the yells of the reporters outside. "What are you doing?" some said, alarmed. "Merely trying to keep out the Dabberblimps," Luna said dismissively, shrugging. "They spy on people. Now, nothing I say must go out of this room without the permission of Harry. Yes?" Murmurs of agreement echoed across the room, and Luna started her tale.

"When I was at Hogwarts, I took Divination as one of my extra subjects. Professor Trelawney used to say I had what she called "the Sight", and she always took special notice of me. In my last lesson before the O.W.L.s, she came round to everyone, checking that they knew what they doing…

'_Miss Lovegood?'__ Luna looked dreamily up at Professor Trelawney. 'How are you doing with the crystal ball?' 'Fine,' Luna returned her attention to the curved glass surface. 'Though I have been getting weird images lately.'_

'_Really? Show me,'__ Trelawney scrambled for a chair, making a great show of sitting down with a flourish, waiting eagerly, and Luna began. 'I see a baby girl, crying in her mother's arms as she tries to quiet the baby; I see the child, now older, playing with another girl; I see the girls sitting on the floor with quills in hand, a map spread between them as they planned; and I see so much more, featuring the girl as she grows up. Who is she?'_

'_Only time can tell, my dear,' Trelawney replied, looking awestruck with the amount of visions. 'Only time can tell.' Obviously satisfied, she turned to go, but Luna's hand flew forward and caught hold of one of her many shawls. 'Miss Lovegood, what do you think you are...' Her words trailed off when she saw Luna, for her eyes were misted over with grey, and she was in a trance._

'Years from now, when peace is known,

Darkness shall strike, like snake upon prey.

Many will die, the magicless leads,

And a fearless death shall start the war.

Chaos will erupt, many will fall,

Terror will reign, and lives will be lost.

But in the darkest of hours, when all hope is gone,

Light shall start shining and darkness shall fall.

One shall be brave as the lion,

Black lies awry, emeralds gleam.

One shall be wise as the eagle,

Flaming red flows, blue waves roar.

One shall be cunning as the snake,

Pale moon shines, grey storm rages.

And once the three's powers combine,

Sunlight shall return and peace restored._'_

_When Luna came to, she was in the hospital wing with a letter of explanation __from Trelawney and a copy of the prophecy she made lying on the table next to her._

"So this is what I have to say," Luna said, looking at Harry and Hermione, ready to judge their reaction. "I thought it rather fits the current situation." And so the wave of hushed whispers, shouts of disbelief and excited chatter started. Harry and Hermione just sat in the midst of it all, shell-shocked, with Luna staring at them, looking slightly amused at their reactions, her quill already scribbling the next front-page article of the _Quibbler_.

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><p><em>Yeah, another chapter so soon! I would like to warn you all that this might be the last chapter for a while, since the end-of-year exams are coming up... *groans and pulls notes and books out* Still, maybe I'll find some time to plan the next chapter. Anyway, last chapter someone reviewed and asked when are Harry's children coming up. Well, the answers should be the next chapter. Please tell me what you think of my story so far, and I'll give you my personal thanks next time!<em>

_Bianca tabbycat :)_


	4. The Spy

Minerva McGonagall had a headache. A very serious one, at that. She was never at her best in the morning, despite being a professor, and the news of a rising Dark Lord – no, Lady – did nothing to help her pounding head. Poppy's advice to go to bed earlier had meant well, but it was _impossible _to do so, seeing as she was Headmistress and now the head of the Order of the Phoenix to boot.

Which reminded her – the prophecy. Merlin, she wouldn't even had _heard_ of it if it wasn't for Harry. That information was "classified and top-secret", and Harry was already bending the rules using his "Chosen-One-who-defeated-Voldemort" identity, which was very sweet of him. Apparently, Harry wanted her to contact the old Order members, not to mention that she had to find the three children, who Harry was sure was still at Hogwarts. A copy of Luna's prophecy was by her side. With a heavy sigh, Minerva heaved a thick folder, which contained the information of students who ever attended Hogwarts, onto her desk.

Her sharp eyes scanned the prophecy once more. One hero was from Gryffindor – here Minerva felt a surge of pride for her house. One was from Ravenclaw, and one was from Slytherin. She decided to start on the child from Gryffindor first; after all, it was her former house. Flipping to the Gryffindor section, she found the list of students that year, with a photo accompanying their basic information. Well, that made her work a lot easier. With a deep sigh, she started from the beginning.

Meaningless faces soon began running together, and yet Minerva went on. _"Black hair, green eyes"_ was the chant in her head as she searched for the child. Wait a minute! Minerva felt a jolt of recognition which she couldn't quite place. Yet she knew it was someone she had spoken to quite recently… Harry! He has messy black hair and emerald green eyes, but yet he wasn't in school. But then it must be someone who resembled him closely. An image popped in her mind of breakfast that morning – she had glanced at the Gryffindor table, she remembered, and saw… Albus Potter! An eagle quill scribbled his name down on the parchment. One down, two to go.

Now, Ravenclaw. She turned the pages, but instead of searching straight away, as she had down previously, she began to reason it out. If one of the children was the Chosen One's son, then surely one of the others would be the child of the remaining Golden Trio, which meant it would either be Rose Weasley or Hugo Weasley. Hugo was in Hufflepuff, which leaves Rose. A mental snapshot of Rose came to the front of her mind. Auburn hair, check. Ocean blue eyes, check. Sure, her hair wasn't flaming red, but it was when she first came to Hogwarts, and it had darkened now to a rather attractive shade, if she did say so herself. Down went Rose's name next to the appropriate lines.

Last of all, Slytherin. Now this she wasn't looking forward to so much. She couldn't think of a single friend of Harry's who was in Slytherin… She rewound her memories, and made certain of that fact. Well, if it wasn't a friend in Slytherin, but perhaps a student with a strong connection to Harry. She glanced at the prophecy again. _Pale moon shines, grey storms rages_, she read, and a frown came on her face. Surely it couldn't be… _Scorpius Malfoy? _

Minerva hurried to the fireplace and pinched a handful of Floo powder from the pot. Throwing it into the flames, which she had hastily rekindled, she stuck her head into the flames and shouted, "Head of Auror office, the Ministry!" Moments later, she was looking out at the clustered office of one Harry Potter.

"Minerva!" Harry's face brightened noticeably when he noticed her. "Merlin, you wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork I have to finish. Practically whole stacks of them! Anyway, Minerva, I don't think you dropped in just to hear me ramble on about paperwork. What's the matter?"

"Well," Minerva said who was currently attempting to rid herself of the giddy sensation that often happens when she used the Floo. "Well, I found the information on the prophecy children. Albus, your son; Rose, Mr. Weasley's daughter; and last but not least, Scorpius Malfoy."

Harry did not betray any surprise at the first two names Minerva announced, but at the mention of his arch-enemy's son, his face had been wiped clean of all emotion apart from one – shock. He soon recovered from it, however, and returned to his business-like state. "Thank you, Minerva," he thanked her warmly, but his smile was slightly strained. "I've sent Ron and some other Aurors over to your office – for the briefing, you know. The new recruits are trustworthy – at least, I think so. Also, I need you to gather some professors at Hogwarts for the Order. Is that alright with you?

Minerva sent him a comforting glance. "Of course it's fine, dear. It's kind of boring being the Headmistress apart from the paperwork, like you, so I'll be glad for a change of pace." Harry thanked her once again, and bided her goodbye. Just as Minerva was about to go, she stopped and turned.

"Oh, and Harry? Do rest and spend more time with your family; it would soon be too difficult to do so in the future." And with that, she withdrew from the fireplace, where she spent quite a while wincing and allowing her circulation to return to normal. Harry was left in his office, thinking that underneath the stern façade, Minerva McGonagall was actually quite a mother hen.

Back at Hogwarts, Minerva was just getting off the staircase and hurrying towards the office of one Potions Professor, Crystal Patel when she ran into a squad dressed in the crimson red of Auror robes. "Mr. Weasley," she greeted him hurriedly, nodding at the rest of the group. "Please, do you mind waiting in my office? I'm afraid I have something… urgent to tend to. Oh, and Mr. Weasley, the password is not a sweet; it's 'Pain-Relieving Potion'. Now, I must be off." And with that, she swept down the corridor.

Ronald Weasley was left staring at the gargoyle in front of the Headmistress's office. "Pain-Relieving Potion?" he repeated incredulously, and the gargoyle sprang aside.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

It was dusk, and the streaks of molten gold was fading from the calm blue waters of Kielder Lake. Inside the invisible manor, a figure clothed in the standard grey robes of the Shadows was kneeling before Calypso.

"My Lady," she murmured respectfully, "I have obtained valuable information. There was a prophecy made on the defeat of you, My Lady. The Order of the Phoenix has already been restarted, and they believe they have found the subjects of the prophecy."

"And they are?" Calypso's voice was soft, and yet deadly. "The second Potter boy, the Weasley girl and the son of Malfoy, My Lady."

A laugh sounded through the house, which would have chilled any sane person if they had heard it. "You have done well, my spy, and you shall be rewarded."

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><p><em>Yay<em>_! I had managed to spare a couple of hours to write this chapter, despite of my mum's eagle eye on me. Well, she has her reasons, I suppose - after all, my exams are more or less a week away. *Blanches* Wish me luck, please, and leave me a review!_

_Bianca tabbycat_


	5. Their Fate

"Hey, Al!"

The black, messy-haired Gryffindor looked up from his breakfast platter to meet the impatient blue eyes of his cousin, Rose Weasley. It was a Saturday, and the day – as the Great Hall's ceiling showed – was perfect, all blue skies and fluffy white clouds, like cotton candy, just right for the Quidditch match coming up later. He still remembered the time when he was a child, and his dad took him to the Muggle carnival and introduced him to the sweet which melted once it was put in your –

"Albus!" His cousin was now waving her hand energetically in front of his face, making him go cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the object. "Are you even listening to me? I _said_, good morning!" Rose crossed her arms, putting on her unsatisfied pout which would have made any boy try to cheer her up. At age fifteen, Rose was stunning. She was petite, taking after her mother, but she had inherited Ron's genes for Quidditch, which kept her figure slim and fit. Her auburn curls bounced on her shoulders whenever she moved – which was often – and her ocean blue eyes would charm anyone. Her skin was tanned from being in the sun, and there would be a dimple in her cheek when she smiled. She could have gotten any boy she wanted, and yet Rose would prefer a friend, a broom, and perhaps a book over a date.

Albus, however, was immune to her charms, and he crossed his own arms and met her eyes stubbornly. Rose quickly bursted into giggles, as she always did, closely followed by Albus' own. "Well, good morning to you too, Rose," he managed to sputter after his fit of laughter. "What brings you to the Gryffindor table?"

Rose faked a mask of hurt, though the raising of her eyebrows rather marred the effect. "Is that a hint that my darling cousin doesn't want me here?" After seeing Albus' no-nonsense face, however, she quickly answered. "Well, Lils' sick, as you know, in the hospital wing, and she wants me to deliver the Marauder's Map back to you. It's your turn, after all, and she reminded you to give it to James next round. So… here it is." Rose fished around in her pockets before finding the tattered piece of parchment, placing it on the table and getting Albus to move over to make room for her.

"Well, Al, where are all your usual buddies? I didn't think it'll be this easy to find a seat," Rose enquired, frowning as she looked around. She spotted the "gang" sitting at the opposite end of the table. "I thought they always hang around you."

Albus shrugged, and dug into his surprisingly full plate, his queasy stomach now settled; his nerves usually prevented him from eating. "You know my temper before a match; I'm so easily angered that I just blew up last term at the end-of-the-year match, so they just decided to steer clear of me for today, just in case. Not to mention that it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which just makes it worse."

Rose nodded in understanding, and placed her hand over his, knowing physical contact always calmed him down. It seemed to work, too, but suddenly Albus' head snapped up, feeling someone's glaze on him. He looked towards the Slytherin table, where his suspicion was confirmed – the steely grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy was fixed on him – or rather, at his and Rose's clasped hands.

Green met grey, and both of the teenagers' eyes bored into each other's, hostility etched in their glares as they tried to stare each other down. Rose soon noticed this battle of wills, and she interrupted it by waving her hand, once again, in front of Albus' face. Having broken his concentration, she turned to Scorpius, shot him an apologetic smile which he returned, and dragged, in her opinion, her immature cousin out of the Great Hall to the Quidditch pitch.

Albus struggled against Rose's iron grip, unsuccessful in his attempt to free himself without breaking his arm. "Let me go!" he cried, and Rose obliged once they were out of the castle doors into the slightly chilly air. She shivered, wrapping her blue and bronze scarf around her neck.

"What was that about?" Albus complained, with a heavy scowl on his face as he matched Rose's speed. "Hmmm?" She continued at her leisurely pace, unaware of Albus' irritation. "That smile you gave Malfoy!" he exploded, waving his arms about wildly like a demented windmill. "Really, Rose, haven't you listened to Uncle Ron's warnings about Malfoy and his father? Malfoy Senior always bullied Dad and Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione at school. He was a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake! Why do you insist on being so nice to him? A leopard never changes its spots!"

Rose stopped and spun to face him; her lips were pressed thinly together and her eyes were blazing with white-hot fury. "Well, Albus Potter, things can change! Yes, my father had warned us about Scorpius' father – but note my words, Albus: Scorpius' _father_! Scorpius is not his father, and therefore, he does not take responsibility for his father's actions. Also, Dad was the only one who said that; both Mum and Uncle Harry think Malfoy Senior has changed for the better. Well, I agree with them, because frankly, we all know that Dad tends to overexaggerate. As for why I insist on being nice to him – because he's not as bad as you think! You just hate him because of the house rivalry!" Turning on her heel, she stalked back towards the castle, to the bright burning fires and the warm cozy rooms.

Albus kept on walking around the castle, trying to clear his head of the disagreement before the match, a short half an hour away. A clear set of footprints was left behind him in the freshly fallen snow.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

Scorpius Malfoy was seated at the Slytherin table, as usual. He was next to Carl Zabini, as usual. He was exhausted after winning the Quidditch match, as usual. But what was definitely _not_ usual was his attraction to Rose Weasley at the Ravenclaw table, not to mention the sealed scroll of parchment which appeared next to his arm in the middle of dinner. Unsealing it with a simple tap of his wand, his eyes scanned quickly over its contents.

_Mister Malfoy,_

_Your attendance is required at the Headmistress' office after supper. I would expect you to be there at 8 P.M. Please be punctual; this concerns an urgent matter._

_Sincerely,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall_

_P.S. The password pass the gargoyle is "Pain-Relieving Potion". _

Scorpius allowed no flicker of emotion pass his face, and slipped the parchment in his pocket unnoticed by his neighbors. He looked up towards the Head Table, searching for the Headmistress. She seemed to feel his eyes on her, and she gave him a pointed look: _Well, are you coming?_ He gave a tiny nod in confirmation of his attendance, and returned to his plate, musing over the recent events. Why in the name of Merlin's beard would McGonagall want to see _him, _of all people?

His glaze, however, soon returned to Rose as she chatted with her friends, mesmerized by her auburn curls as they moved and the laughter that was so full of humor and joy. He was only shaken out of his trance when Rose stood from the table and headed for the doors at the same time as Potter. Realizing it was, in fact, five to eight, he too departed from the Hall. His so-called friends did not take any notice.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

The duo – which were Rose and Albus – walked along the corridors of Hogwarts. Neither acknowledged the other, and so the silence was impenetrable and the atmosphere tense. When at long last they had finally reached the gargoyle, the statue nearly crashed the one next to it in its haste to avoid Rose's glare at everything they met. The spiral staircase carried them to the office noiselessly, only to discover Minerva wasn't even there to make small talk to ease the tension. And so these are the reasons none of them gave Scorpius a warm welcome – not that he expected one anyway.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Albus' tone was harsh, while Rose's was merely surprised at the appearance of the Slytherin in the Headmistress' office. Deciding that Rose's presence would be more welcome than her cousin's, he settled down in the wooden chair next to hers. His lip curled slightly in distaste – McGonagall's chairs were as hard as granite and seemed to poke uncomfortably at every part of him.

"Well, Rose, I received a summons from the Headmistress to be here at eight, and so here I am," Scorpius replied, completely ignoring Potter. "Though she seemed unable to keep her own appointments," he added under his breath. To his surprise, Rose seemed to have overheard him and gave him an amused, though small smile. He returned it, and noticed a disapproving grunt from Potter. Ah, someone was jealous.

At that particular awkward moment, however, McGonagall stepped in, closing the door quickly after her. Scorpius' eyes narrowed; there was someone behind the door – he spotted the corner of the navy robes – and obviously she didn't want them seeing him. Deciding to forget this, he focused on McGonagall again.

"I'm glad you have all been able to come, for this meeting concerns the fate of yourselves, as well as many others. I trust you have details of the war some years ago, between Voldemort and Harry Potter?" Here everyone paid much more attention; the meeting was more interesting than they would have thought. "A similar situation appeared to have happened, though not as serious. You have all read the newspapers on the disappearances of random Muggle-borns, the Muggle massacre on Halloween and the death of the Minister of Magic, and for once the _Prophet_ is not far off the truth. There _is_ a new force of the Dark rising, and we all need to do something about it. Normally, the Order of the Phoenix would gather in these times and try to defeat the Dark. However, in this case, this is a prophecy, naming you three as the ones to defend the Light and destroy the Dark."

Raising her hand to cut off the trio's comments, Minerva continued. "I, of course, do not usually put stock in the art of Divination, but the Seer, which is Ms. Lovegood, is more trustworthy than Sybil Trelawney. I assume you all want to hear the prophecy, so here it is."

In a sing-song voice, she recited:

"_Years from now, when peace is known, _ _Darkness shall strike, like snake upon prey._ _Many will die, the magicless leads,_ _And a fearless death shall start the war._ _Chaos will erupt, many will fall, _ _Terror will reign, and lives will be lost._ _But in the darkest of hours, when all hope is gone,_ _Light shall start shining and darkness shall fall._ _One shall be brave as the lion,_ _Black lies awry, emeralds gleam._ _One shall be wise as the eagle,_ _Flaming red flows, blue waves roar._ _One shall be cunning as the snake,_ _Pale moon shines, grey storm rages._ _And once the three's powers combine, __Sunlight shall return and peace restored__."_

The office immediately erupted; yells, shouts, and protests filled the room. Raising her hand for silence, she allowed Albus to ask the first question. "How could we be sure that Malfoy is on the Light side? How could we know that he isn't a spy for the Dark?" Minerva nodded in response, for she had foreseen this happening. "Although our information on the Dark Lady and her followers are limited, we do know one thing. Their followers have an unremovable brand on their left forearms. Mister Malfoy, if you please." Scorpius looked at Minerva in disbelief, and he read in her face that she was sorry this had to happen, but yet firm in her decision. With an exasperated sigh, he lifted his sleeve; there was no tattoo.

Albus' face was turning red. "You can't be sure! He doesn't need to be branded to be passing information to the Dark side!" Minerva shot him an icy glare. "That is enough from you, Mister Potter. Ten points from your house. I do not expect a Gryffindor to behave like that." Albus dropped back into his equally uncomfortable chair, dejected.

"Mister Malfoy, any questions?" Scorpius nodded, his expression betraying none of the confusion that swirled in his mind. "I don't understand, Professor, how do know that the ones spoken of in the prophecy are us? Who knows, they could be anyone who has similar features to our own."

"Very good question, Mister Malfoy. Thing is, we don't know. This is a guess, you could say, though the possibility that it is another person is not large. After all, at least one of your parents played an important part in the war." At this response, the trio were aghast. How could the stern Headmistress simply _not know_?

"Last question, Miss Weasley. What is it?" Rose looked up at Minerva with worried blue eyes. "Professor, we don't exactly know how to fight properly in a duel. Who will teach us?" The Headmistress just smiled and pointed at the doorway. Leaning against it was the famous Harry Potter himself, with a warm grin on his face. He looked, Scorpius observed, like a larger version of Albus himself, but there were small differences. The shape of their faces, for one thing, but their other features was otherwise pretty much the same.

"Who did you expect to train you, Rose, Merlin?" Harry's voice was amused as he dropped into the other remaining chair next to his son, and he winced as he did so. "I must say, Minerva, your chairs are still the same, aren't they?" Here Minerva said stiffly, "I have no idea what are you talking about, Mister Potter."

They moved on to the topic of the trio's training, which was decided to be held on weekends, but Harry's wicked and gleeful grin at the anticipation of their first training session did _not_ do wonders for the trio's nerves.

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><p><em>Hey, everyone! My exams are over, and I'm sorry to say I took my time writing this chapter. It was well worth it, though, it's twice the length of my usual chapters. I hope you guys like it, and I'll dedicate the next one to the first person who reviews!<em>

_Bianca tabbycat_

_P.S. I've changed the title of this Fanfic from "The Last Heir of Slytherin" to "Destiny Fulfilled", hope the title's better! :D _


	6. The Ambush

_Hey, everyone! This chapter is dedicated to **Aister97**, who was the first to review my previous chapter. R & R, please!_

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><p>Scorpius shivered as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express into the wintry air, lugging his trunk after him and pulling his woolen cloak closer as he searched for his house elf, Pernie, who was supposed to Apparate him to the Manor along with his belongings. His stormy grey eyes swept over the crowd on the platform, trying not to be swept up with the stream of people heading for the barrier separating the Muggle and the Wizarding World. He felt a tug on his sleeve, and with a scowl on his face and a stinging insult on the tip of his tongue, he spun around only to face a beaming Rose, with Hugo, her brother, half-hidden behind her black cloak with crystal blue lining.<p>

"Rose," he greeted her, the scowl disappearing at once when he recognized the person, a genuine smile quickly taking its place. "How are you?" Rose shrugged, replying, "Same old, same old. I just came to wish you happy holidays, actually. Who's picking you up?" Scorpius almost bursted out laughing at her anxious expression as she looked around, trying to pick out his parents from the remaining wizards. A sad smile tugged at his lips when he thought of his mother. "Actually, my house elf is here to pick me up. My house is just too far away for normal transportation, and since my father's too busy…" His sentence trailed off as he spotted a familiar, though short, figure. "Pernie!"

He waved for her attention, and the elf quickly hurried over, apologizing when she tripped someone up in her haste. "Master Scorpius!" Pernie gasped out, managing to look caring and yet imitating at the same time. "Where is you? Pernie is looking for you all over the place, sir! Oh, who is this young lady?" Her rant stuttered to a stop when she noticed the auburn-haired Ravenclaw next to Scorpius. He ran through introductions, skipping Hugo as he had ran off somewhere during their conversation. Tuning the two new acquaintances' chatter out of his mind, he instead mused over his elf's reaction to Rose. He had not, in fact, missed Pernie's shrewd glance as she appraised Rose, not to mention the satisfied smirk that had crept slowly on her face. It seems Pernie was as much as a matchmaker as his mother before she… Scorpius immediately shook off his dark thoughts concerning his mother, comforted with the thought that he would see her very soon.

"Pernie, I think it's time to go; my parents would be wondering where I am," he cut in just as she was about to say something. "Rose, I'll see you after the holidays, then." She smiled understandingly and bid him goodbye before she was dragged away by her brother towards the barrier. Scorpius was slightly surprised; the platform was empty with the exception of himself and the elf, as everyone had left for the comfort of home. He gave a nod to Pernie, a signal for her to Apparate, and with a pop, they were home – at long last.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

"Draco, Scorpius… Please, come in." Scorpius could hear the love in Astoria Malfoy's invitation for his father and himself, despite her illness for the past three years – Scrofungulus. It had been provoked by a magical bug unknown to the Wizarding World, and its symptoms were unexplained weight loss, lack of appetite and occasional blackouts, leaving Astoria bedridden. Now, his mother's once tanned skin was pasty pale, she was noticeably thinner than before, and Scorpius could feel her ribs sticking out when he hugged her gently. She seemed so very frail, as though she would vanish any second, and he hated the illness for making his mother the weak and helpless person she was.

"Mother." The simple greeting was filled with gratitude and sorrow, for her many years of being there when she was needed and her suffering, and his eyes welled up when he thought of the mere handful of years until Astoria would die and leave him and his father all alone, in the big, wide world. Scorpius and his father had never been very close; though Draco had tried to spend more time with him, the attempt was always unsuccessful, for his work would always call him away at one point or another. Astoria had always been their tie, the bridge connecting the two men, the one who kept the family knitted together, and soon… she would be gone forever to the land of the dead. His morbid train of thought, though, was interrupted by his mother's soft touch on his clenched fists.

"Well, Scorpius, what's this from Pernie about an attractive young lady?" His mother's light hazel eyes were warm, amused with the idea of Scorpius dating. "Who is she?" Astoria's voice may be rough, but the enthusiasm behind it was clear to anyone who heard it. Draco, too, was looking at his son, interested in the "attractive lady's" identity. "Rose Weasley," Scorpius mumbled, his cheeks pink with the embarrassment of his potential girlfriend as he mentally cursed his house elf for bringing up the issue with his mother, of all people. Astoria gave a childish squeal as Draco's face became the perfect picture of astonishment at the mention of the daughter of his two nemeses.

The rest of the afternoon – or so it seemed to Scorpius – was spent on discussing possible wives for him. Astoria was infatuated with the idea of "true love" for Scorpius and insisted on Rose as a possibility, while Draco would prefer a pureblood to "restore the family honor to its former glory". The day ended peacefully enough with a simple but tasty dinner in Astoria's rooms, and then they each departed for their own privacy.

Once in his room, Scorpius allowed tears to run down his face, not ashamed of them as he would usually be in normal circumstances. When he was home and saw his mother, he would be relieved that she was still herself despite her rapidly decreasing weight; but once he was alone in the Manor, the thoughts of death would haunt him once more.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

The first thing Scorpius heard on Christmas morning was the hoot of an irritated sooty black owl with startling amber eyes, its claws dragging down the glass of his window, producing a thoroughly unpleasant squeal that made him want to cover his ears. Rubbing sleepy dust from his eyes, he stumbled over to open the window for the damn owl, recoiling when the unexpected chilly air hit him in the face. Slamming it shut, he made quick work of removing the parcel from its outstretched leg and placed his own owl, Fintan's bowl of water in front of him. Giving a hoot of thanks, the owl quenched its thirst, motioned for Scorpius to open the window, and flew back to its owner, its silhouette soon out of sight.

Scorpius frowned as he watched it go, as he had the feeling that he had seen the owl before. Shelling the wrapping paper of the parcel, he discovered a note and a box of Chocolate Frogs. Smiling, for he recognized the handwriting, he decided to read the note first.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I hope you're enjoying yourself at your house, wherever that is. You're so lucky – you get to enjoy peace and quiet at home (well, most likely, anyway) while I have to spend the day with my whole family. And I mean EVERYONE is going to be there. Knowing the size and noise produced by the whole lot of them, my eardrums will probably be damaged severely after this. _

_Once again, have a nice holiday!_

_Love,_

_Rose_

_P.S. Hopefully you'll like the Chocolate Frogs; I wasn't too sure what to get you for Christmas. _

Scorpius was touched by the letter; none of his friends in Slytherin ever showed friendly affection towards each other. The only presents he usually got were from his parents and Aunt Andromeda on Christmas and birthdays. Quickly penning a letter to thank her, Scorpius resolved to get Rose a gift from Diagon Alley sometime before school started.

Dressing as fast as he could, he headed for his mother's rooms – to spend what time they have left together; to be at her side whenever possible; to be with his family on Christmas Day.

_*Heir of Slytherin*_

"And the entire classroom was filled with all these weird contraptions which exploded and released large clouds of black smoke. Everyone started panicking, shouting and leaving the room, but Professor Binns didn't even notice! It was so funny." Scorpius finished his tale, and Astoria was snickering, clutching her middle. "Are you sure you didn't make it up?" Draco teased, and his son stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes.

Abruptly, without warning, Draco jumped to his feet and stretched out his arm, as if to grab some object invisible to the human eye. Just then, the alarms installed to alert the family rang loudly, never stopping, resounding throughout the entire house. "The wards are down. There are six of them – the Shadows," Draco said hoarsely. "We have to get out. Shit! The Dark Lady's just walked through the gates." His frantic report was cut short by the explosion of the front door with a well-placed _Confringo_.

Astoria snapped into action at once, slipping something silver from her bedside table drawer and grabbing the first thing that came to hand – a handheld mirror. She aimed her birch wand at the object and muttered, "Portus." The mirror glowed a brilliant blue and vibrated for a few moments, and Astoria leaned back into her pillows, worn out by the use of magic.

"Take it." It was not a request, but a command, an instruction one must follow. Draco nodded, handed the Portkey to Scorpius, and slipped his arms underneath Astoria, only to have her wriggle free, refusing to go with him. "You can't bring me," she whispered, for the footsteps were closing in, as a predator does to their prey. "I'm too weak to survive Portkey travel. I'll die if I do so. Please, take the Portkey and leave me behind." Her face was rigid with determination; this was an argument she must win at all costs.

"No!" Draco shook his head, and attempting to lift his wife once more, only to feel a minor Stinging Hex. Astoria collapsed back onto her bed; only a little of her magical energy remained. "I won't go; Scorpius could go alone and I will fight for your life. You are the only friend I have; I can't let them torture you." Astoria smiled sadly, committing her family's face in her mind for what was the last time. "Would it make you feel better if I tell you I'll die painlessly and quickly?"

She casted the Banishing Charm on Draco, causing him to fly backwards into his son, who staggered to support both of their weights. Astoria whispered "I love you" before activating the Portkey just as the door was blasted aside. Draco caught a fleeting glimpse of the face under the hood, and his eyes, identical to that of his son's, widened in disbelief and recognition just before they were swept away to safety.

Astoria looked at the figure in her bedroom with an impassive mask, as though strange people stormed into the Manor everyday and broke down her door. "The Dark Lady," she named the intruder, "what a pleasant surprise."

Calypso disarmed her with a simple flick of her wand, and the stick flew out of her slick grip, clattering to the floor at the back of the room. Astoria allowed herself a grim smile; she wouldn't need the wand again, anyway. She still felt a twinge of longing, though, for her wand had long been a part of her.

"Where is the boy?" There was barely suppressed rage and impatience in her tone, but Astoria ignored the warning signals. "Do you really think I would tell you where my son is? If so, then you have greatly underestimated the power of love." Calypso gave a scornful laugh, then stopped as she sensed something strange about Astoria.

"Your magical core is drained – completely drained. How could that be? Surely you are a witch and a pureblood; I have made sure before I came." Astoria shot the Dark Lady a mocking grin. "Well, you shall never get those answers out of me – of that, I am certain."

Calypso simply smiled, and she fingered her wand threateningly. "I'm sure that a Cruciatus Curse would loosen your tongue." At this, Astoria shook her head, and lifted her arm for Calypso to see. There was a small silver snake with its coils wrapped round the wrist. Its head was diamond-shaped, and its fangs were bared, venom and blood dripping from them.

"I win," Astoria said faintly to the stunned Calypso, and she slumped backwards on the bed, drawing her last breath with the image of Draco and Scorpius firmly imprinted in her mind.

A wordless scream of rage echoed through the house.

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><p><em>I'm so sorry I was late for a couple of days in posting this chapter - I began with the trio's training, decided it was too short and started all over again, and then had writer's block for this chapter in the middle of it. Anyway, I finally finished it (though I thought it looked weird) and hopefully you'd enjoyed it! By the way, is there anyone out there who'd like to be my beta-reader? Please review or P.M. me if you're interested!<em>

_Bianca tabbycat :D_


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